Twice
Oppressed

At a
recent film screening documenting the lives of gay Middle-Easterners, I ran
into the startling story of Mahmoud (not his real name), a gay Palestinian
seeking refuge in California. Let me, with as much fidelity as I can manage,
relate the amazing chronology of his life:

Fifteen-year-old
Mahmoud, living in Jerusalem as an Israeli-Palestinian, contained just as much
homophobia and curiosity as was normal for his situation. One night, while
watching a movie with his mother and best friend Hashim, he chanced onto his
first gay experience: with the excuse of the cold, Mahmoud and friend nuzzled
ever closer, and then kissed. Mom, who was already drowsy, went up to bed, and
the boys got rid of their virginity.

At the
time, both had Jewish girlfriends (not in any way as an alibi) whom they
loved. Neither suspected their homosexuality, yet felt confirmed in it after
that night, which would turn out to be the start of a seven-year relationship.
Mahmoud’s parents, concerned for his professional well-being, pushed him to
pursue higher education. He eventually matriculated at a prestigious
Californian medical school.The Golden State, a progressive dream contemplated
from the TV set, was to become Mahmoud’s new sanctuary.

The next
priority became getting Hashim to the United States. His social status (poor
and under-educated) inhibited their quest for a student visa, and the distance
and bureaucracy started to wear down their relationship, culminating in a
break-up after one year. They remained in monthly contact, and pretty soon
Hashim had found another, a Jewish man 10 years his senior. Their love life
started out well, but began to turn more and more abusive, prompting the
parent’s suspicion.

After
one particularly brutal fight, the older boyfriend called the Israeli police
and complained that a Palestinian had attacked him. Hashim was summarily
arrested and taken to headquarters for questioning. He repeatedly stated
“we’re friends!” to dispel the nationalist motive sure to land him in
jail. In private conference with the Jewish man, the police admitted a lack of
evidence and left it to him to decide whether he wanted to prosecute, at which
stage he made a crucial slip and revealed that Hashim was his boyfriend. With
new ideas in mind, the police reinterrogated Hashim. He denied the charge of
homosexuality outright, to which the investigators responded, “We know what
you are!” The police offered Hashim two options: give us the names of every
gay Palestinian you know, or we’ll tell your family about you. The Israeli
police employ this tactic because gay Palestinians make the best
collaborators: pressured into a vulnerable secrecy, they can be forced to
perform any bidding if one threatens to “out” them. Rather than face
banishment at home, he chose to implicate the homosexual community.
Unwittingly, he mentioned Mahmoud’s name.

News of
the “list” quickly reached Jerusalem’s Palestinian sector, and in short
time Mahmoud’s parents found out he’d had a homosexual relationship. At a
family gathering, Mahmoud’s uncles promised to “take care of the
matter.” Initially, they pleaded with him to come back home and “talk.”

Later
on, his sister called and prefaced what she was to say with “I love you no
matter what you are.” “Don’t talk to your uncles,” she continued,
“they’ve found out. Didn’t you get my letters?” Mahmoud, predictably,
had not received a single one. Soon after, the uncles upended the house and
rifled through his belongings, unearthing an old photo of Mahmoud and Hashim
kissing. “We need to resolve this issue, it’s a shame on the family,”
they declared, implying anything from arranged marriage to death. They tried
again to coax him into coming home, broaching the topic of marriage; when
Mahmoud declined, they let loose on him, calling him the Arabic equivalent of
“faggot.” His mother, in her first intervention, told her son not to come
back.

Mahmoud
is currently applying for asylum in the United States; if he succeeds he will
be only the second Israeli citizen to have done so (a half-Arab half-Jewish
fisherman had complained of chronic mistreatment by port authorities and was
granted asylum in the United States earlier this year). The Israeli government
reacted with indignation at the first case, as it contradicted the democratic
image it tirelessly lobbies for. Without doubt, Mahmoud’s story will cause
similar consternation, forcing both Israel and Palestine to reassess their
unwilling cooperation in creating a new kind of victim.